A Rainy Day in Gondor
by MrsGaryOldman
Summary: Just a lil 2 Chap. story about how Gondor's Royal Family pass the time on a rainy day... COMPLETE! Aragorn, Arwen, Eldarion & sisters
1. Chapter 1

_**The Lord of the Rings**_

**A Rainy Day in Gondor**

_**Author's note;** This fic is one of many in which I intend to write regarding the Gondorian Royal family. Please take note of these characters as they will be used in some of my following works (or attempts – LOL!) Though my stories won't always be in chronological order, they will all involve the same timeline (unless stated otherwise). If I might base a future story on a later period of Aragorn's life, he will have these same children and may have had some more. This particular fic takes place around 10 years after the War of the Ring & King Elessar's coronation. Thank you to all who take the time to read, I really appreciate it! _:-)

'_A Rainy Day in Gondor' will have 2 chapters in all, and I dedicate this to 'RS' who left me my first & fab LOTR review with my first LOTR fic 'Between the Blankets'_.

Chapter 1

The pellets of rain hitting against the window showed no sign of easing. It had been pouring over the land of Minas Tirith since the early morning, and as the day moved into mid-afternoon, the drops seemed to only become bigger. The elf glanced across the hills, clouded with the drizzle in the distance. Though the weather upset the day's original plans, the mystical view before her was a refreshing consolation. The white mist of the falling water reminded her of her former home in the woods of Rivendell. Arwen, for a moment, soaked the sounds she heard from outside as if it were haunting music. The bliss was short lived, however, as a young cry brought her pensive mind back into the nursery.

"Naneth, he's ruining our village with his soldiers! Tell him stop!" the little child pleaded in desperation, running to her mother and tugging her dangling delicate sleeve.

"Don't excite yourself darling….why don't you include your brother in your game?"

The Queen's compromise proved unpopular as she saw Sadriel's tiny bottom lip quiver, "But he's ruining it!" the little princess exclaimed, unable to say more with the threat of crying.

Of course, given no other choice, Arwen rose from the comfort of her seat by the narrow, long window to attend to the scattered array in the middle of the floor. Though the room itself was large, customly spacious for playful younglings, Arwen never ceased to be amazed with the vast space her children took up with their elaborate toys and games. Her daughter pointed to the culprit with her small, chubby hand, "Please stop him, Naneth!"

Eldarion was oblivious to his mother and sisters around him – he was far too busy with his wild horses galloping through the miniature houses along the winding paths his sisters had so carefully created all morning.

"Eldarion dear, stop along and play fair," Arwen gently warned. She was surprised it had actually taken so long before the children became restless with being indoors all morning. She had expected they would be a handful and as her trip to the city shelters was cancelled due to the rain, Arwen opted spend her day with the children as opposed to letting their nanny bare the brunt of their inevitable agitation. As the only boy, the young prince was usually the first to stir the pot. On more than one occasion had he disrupted the frivolous games of the girls, and rather than make her son feel unwelcome and unwanted, Arwen preferred a rather relaxed method to correct him.

It did not prove successful. After continuing to knock the amateur-made stables, Sadriel let out an alarmed squeak at her brother's destruction. "Eldarion!" Arwen repeated, this time adapting a more strict approach, "Eldarion please…." She may as well not have spoken as he then sent his largest chestnut horse to terrorise his eldest sisters assembly of dolls, eventually managing to tear a cloth arm of one of them. It was the last straw. Sadriel now cried freely and Elraen was now visibly upset. She too was now in need of her mother's assistance.

"_Eldarion! _Cease your unruly conduct and come forth this instant!" she sharply exclaimed, leaving no room for excuses in her tone. He lifted his head as if he had only just heard her for the first time and stared blankly at his mother. It was tempting to subdue to his innocent round face, but Arwen continued to gain her stern composure. "Come to me at once!"

The large room was now coldly silent, save for the echoing rain from outside and the sound of children's laboured sobbing. The young boy slowly picked himself up and cautiously stepped over the numerous toys which lay scattered in his path. He stopped at quite a distance from his mother, aware that he must have misbehaved in some way. He scratched his temple and clumsily wiped a stray strand of his honey long hair from his face as he stood still. Perhaps, he thought, the distance would lessen a scold.

As always, his mother knew better, "Over here….right beside me!" she ordered quietly, pointing a slender finger to the ground beside her whilst raising her definitive brows.

Eldarion limply proceeded towards her, sighing as an old man would. He must have been really bold. After finally reaching his destination, he hung his head and lifted his silver eyes to her. The tall lady looked quite grim as she stood stiff in a dark blue gown. His mother rarely folded her arms, but he noticed she now did so.

Arwen may have appeared to be somewhat cross, but her outward stance could not be further from the truth. Inside, she was between laughing and melting. As she met his large glistening eyes, a trait of his handsome father's, Arwen found it hard to be stern. Being her only boy, it often amused her to see her son confused when he upset his sisters. He knew no better and she could see his confusion time and time again. "My son, do you realise why I have summoned you to me?"

He did not know how to answer, as he was afraid it might be the wrong one. After searching, he remembered his father's advice given to him on various occasions, 'be always truthful.' "Nay, Naneth," he quietly replied, looking to his teary-eyed sisters apologetically. He mustered enough bravery to again meet his mother's face, and thankfully, she did not appear any more upset.

It was at times like this in which Arwen felt also sympathetic. He had never someone to play with in more boisterous games or indulge in his boyish nature. He couldn't fathom why his sisters didn't like to explore the new creatures he often found in soil whilst agreeing to help them with their gardening. He'd never understand why they never experimented with the contents of their dinner and there was no chance he'd ever see the practicality of wearing dresses. In many ways, he was alone amongst two sisters, and, as always, Arwen could never treat him too harshly.

"Eldarion, you have been disobedient. I grow weary of constantly asking you to be mindful of your sisters ways. Have we not discussed this?" she lightly lectured, "I can't keep repeating myself – you are five years old. When will you start behaving?"

There was another pause. "Tomorrow Naneth," he answered, believing his answer to be correct and what his mother wanted to hear.

It had never been harder for her to hold in a slight smile as she quickly glanced away from him. Only when Arwen was confident she could contain her straight face did she attempt to speak. "I would you start as of now, my darling. You have upset both Elraen and Sadriel once again. If you cannot play fair with your sisters, do not play at all with them…..You must apologise to both."

Still wary in his movements, the little boy moved toward his sisters. His head remained fixed on the ground as he spoke. "I apologise for my wild and bold behaviour. I shall not do it again," he said his older sister. "I apologise for my wild and bold behaviour. I shall not do it again," he repeated to his younger sister. Their only reply was their sniffles.

Arwen sighed wearily at his learnt-by-heart words. He was saying the exact same sentence nearly every day through the year. She placed her hand on his thin shoulder as she directed him, "Now, go to your own corner to your own toys and I will see to it that you stay there until I decide otherwise – agreed?"

"Yes Naneth," he sighed, letting his bare feet gently patter against the cold floor as he proceeded to his confinement.

Arwen now noticed this and called him yet again, "Young sir, what has become of your shoes?"

"Ummmm," he hummed as he scanned the room, completely brushing off any of his previous burdens. If either Princess got a telling off, they were silent for the day, whereas the prince preferred to simply forget about any clashes immediately. The lad was merely delighted he had just been given a scold as opposed to being sentenced to assist in the palace kitchens. "There they are!" Eldarion happily remarked as he waded through the scattered remains of the fallen village. Among the lot, he miraculously pulled out two small black slippers. Many of his soldiers spilled from the insides and, with the aid of string, attached horses to the front of them. "Many of my carriages have lost their wheels, so instead, my slippers are wonderful. I can fit ten soldiers into each, Naneth!" he exclaimed, proudly displaying his invention.

"I would you fit your feet back into them…I shan't warn you about walking barefoot again! And come – what of your trousers!" the Queen cried in disbelief as she noticed stray threads fraying from the bottom. The olive trousers were designed in ¾ length to fall over his knee, but even the canvas material was not strong enough to last the prince's daily adventures. And upon closer inspection, Arwen found his long white top to be stained. "Oh Eldarion, I think you've soiled your vest beyond the solution of washing!" she remarked, trying to figure how he had managed all this whilst staying indoors all day!

After changing her son's clothing and making him somewhat presentable, Arwen settled back into her chair by the window, occupying herself between supervising a playful Eldarion and sewing his trousers. He had returned to his world of horses and she smiled warmly as she listened to his game. She could gather that somewhere was under attack from 'extra-evil' orcs and it was quite endearing to hear him imagine his father, or as her son was referring to him, 'the bravest King in Middle Earth', leading an army in defence. If she knew no better, Arwen would have sworn his battle was that of Helm's Deep - only enhanced with horses. She shook her head and mentally noted to have words with her beloved husband for telling such stories to their son. There was little wonder of Eldarion's imaginative, masculine nature.

Arwen continued to work in peace until a little toddler silently made her way to the window, carrying a small one-armed ragdoll in one hand and when she opened her stubby small fingers, it was revealed she carried a severed cloth arm in the other. "Eldarion tore my Bell-Bell, Nana….," she said, still shaking after her sobs. Her large round eyes were red with the stain of tears.

Her mother looked at her with pity, "My darling, it is easily repaired. I shall see to it straight after I attend to your brother's trousers." She left her sewing to one side as gently took the contents from Sadriel's hands and embraced her daughter tightly, kissing her button nose as she lifted her onto her lap, "I'm afraid he doesn't understand us ladies are not as rough as boys are. And in turn, my dear, we must understand they are rougher than us…. you will learn as you grow older."

"Naneth, why are there boys and why are there girls? Why isn't there anything else?" the little girl innocently asked, laying limply on her mother's shoulder, enjoying the soothing touch of a placate hand trailing along her back.

"Well…" Arwen pondered in amusement, unsure of what answer to supply. Sadriel was definitely the most curious of the children, and her numerous, sometimes wise, questions often kept her parents and the Palace entertained. "Your father and I are very different. So too are you and Eldarion….do you notice he is much stronger than you? And he can be quite noisy at times and you cannot make sense of his daft ways."

"But why isn't Ada silly like that?"

"Oh, people don't see it, but your father is often more senseless than any man! But, it's simply nature – that is the way of boys. And, just like other boys, Eldarion likes playing with soldiers, carving with wood and loves to dig and explore…." Arwen rested her face upon her daughter's soft hazel curls. Her voice became a little more private and animated, "If we never had boys, who would we have to do such tasks? Girls don't like to get muddy….do you?"

"Noo!" Sadriel exclaimed, wrinkling her face in horror and hiding her smile. Naneth always made her feel better and she now felt a little more enlightened on the matter. Silly Eldarion couldn't help being so bold and rough…after all, he was a boy. The child decided she preferred his different ways as opposed to seeing him in a dress and playing picnic with her and Elraen.

Her older sister's call came across the room at that moment, asking for Sadriel to accompany her in some painting.

The Queen easily let her slide from her lap to the floor, "If I am to mend Bell-Bell today, I must get to work with little more delay. In the meantime, might I suggest you paint a picture for your father – you can give it to him when we meet him at dinner."

An eager Sadriel didn't object. She adored any chance of special attention from the King.

"Now, take these aprons over to your sister and don't ruin your dresses….I don't want to discard of any more clothes today," She warned, sighing to only herself by the end as the girls wasted no time in laying on the floor, blissfully decorating the paper to their hearts content.

As the day progressed into the late afternoon, the Queen found it seemed more like dusk was upon them. The sky was still a heavy hue of purple and grey and the rain remained relentlessly pouring down onto the land below. As she had just completed stitching the end of her son's trousers, the nursery door creaked open to reveal the surprise of a very rugged, wet and handsome visitor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Au_thor's Note; _**_Hey guys :-) Just thought I ought to address a lil grammar I'm usin' here (thank you EbonyBeach for mentionin' it) In my stories, you may notice I use the spelling 'elfs' and 'dwarfs' instead of 'elves' and 'dwarves' – this is because somewhere (I think on an extended LOTR DVD) I heard that's how the language professor JRR Tolkien, wished that those be the spellings in his world of MiddleEarth. I'm not fully sure if I've got it the wrong way around or not, so if anyone can enlighten me, I'd be more than happy. THANK YOU all so much for reading and a special thanks to my reviewers – it means a lot to me!_

_EbonyBeach– Your review has introduced me to your excellent your and fab homepg, and may I just say WOW!_

_Lia – and your bother of going to read my other story and praise has left me with a huge smile :-) You've made my day!_

_BubbleSheep – Thnx for takin' the time to review and I really appreciate your encouragement. Hope ya enjoy the ramblin' I've unleashed below (You have been warned – LOL!)_

_SportsNightNut – Well my darlin', it's so good to hear from you, and my mail will be workin' on Fri – Woohoo:-) I have not abandoned my TKAM fic, just slowed down a lil on it…. The first chapter will be up as soon as I get to my own comp., so that'll be soon, and it'll be for you xxxx_

**Chapter 2**

"_ADAR!"_ all three children cried at seeing the dominant figure at the door. They leapt from their dwellings and ran towards him with the greatest urgency. In turn, the King's dry smile turned to a wide beam and he stood with open arms. Of course, Sadriel, being the baby, was lifted into a spinning embrace of her father before the other two grasped each leg.

"Ada, you are _soaking!"_ the toddler exclaimed in surprise.

"So I am," Aragorn replied in a gentle mock, kissing her forehead, "I apologise daughter." Sadriel was released from the secure grasp, saved from any extra dampness and she opted to hold his large cold hand instead. After each were greeted and had received their kiss, Elraen, adopting her usual role of leader, led the crew forward into the nursery.

There was a pause as the King saw what might have been a battle-zone in front of him. "Well…It certainly looks busy in here…." he pointed out in his rich low voice, glancing around at the 'colourful' array. "Tell me – what have you done since morning?"

No sooner had he finished his sentence, the three high voices squeaked unanimously, each bursting to tell their adventures of the day. Aragorn could only make out them telling him it was 'raining since early', something of a broken village and 'extra-bad' orcs. He however, in good manners, smiled and nodded diligently before lifting his head to meet his wife's glittering eyes across the room. She smirked slightly in reply as she made a start on Bell-Bell's arm.

Her husband did not look so regal in his drenched attire, but rather dishevelled. The elements of the outside had mussed his wavy chestnut hair into tight strands. His state of clothes seemed as if he had been undressing. Aragorn was donned only in an open dark brown waistcoat, with a rich green garment under it. The light, cotton piece had a withered collar and half-rolled sleeves. It's bottom was barely tucked into his trousers, falling out and nearly covering his leather belt. It was only when he went to the stables or whilst attending to any labouring duty that he wore black trousers, and Arwen noticed he had them on him today. They too, were severely wet. Upon further examination, she saw Aragorn had discarded his footwear. She rolled her eyes in defeat. No wonder she found it difficult to hold her son responsible for his similar habit.

"What beautiful paintings!" Aragorn remarked kindly upon having to return to the attention of his offspring with colourful pages being placed into his hands. "Is this yours, Elraen?"

The 8-year-old hid her bashful face, "It is only the city – and Sadriel dropped some water on it, so it is rather smudged."

He admired her attention to detail as he counted all seven tiers of white stone. "This is excellent, daught……

"Look at mine, Ada, look at mine!" the small chirpy voice interrupted. Sadriel hopped up and down, impatiently awaiting her turn for her father's praise.

Aragorn lifted the top page to find another, full of various bright shapes. So busy was the picture that he was not sure what he should be seeing. However, he did not want to deprive his youngest of encouragement. "This is very lively, Sadriel. I especially like….this bit here."

"Your holding it upside down, Ada!" she interrupted again in correction. She stopped her bobbing and reached for his hands to make the required adjustments.

Though there didn't seem to be much change in the content, the King was desperate to redeem himself. "Ah, how careless of me. Now I see….I believe you may have invented some new colours!"

It did the trick as the toddler grinned with delight.

"I shall have them displayed in my office quarters for all my guests to see!" The King was denied a longer response with the sudden impact of a wild five-year-old growling boy jumping onto his back. Given little choice but to partake, Aragorn entertained the playful lad, "Ohh, what's this! There seems to be some sort of orc on top of me – Elraen, Sadriel, lets take him out!"

Instead, the sisters chose to side with Eldarion and they too joined in on the attack on the King of Gondor. Arwen found herself giggling along with the joyous squeals that filled the room. The three younglings managed to stumble their father onto the large, cushioned arm-chair which stood against the far wall. The man's cries of mercy did little help as the relentless children proceeded to squeeze and smother him,

"Will the Queen not assist her husband?" he barely heeved amongst the madness, waving for his wife's aid. For a minute, she continued to sit in silence, only giving a sinister smile in answer. She enjoyed the playful act she witnessed, and believed it done the King some good to indulge in some light-hearted fun. With his rigid schedule and heavy duties, it wasn't often in which Aragorn could forget the weight of royal protocol. Though he was a just, fair and most praised King, Aragorn's nature was often more reserved and serious in his role. As she watched him engage openly with Elraen, Eldarion and Sadriel in carefree laughter, she saw a side to him that none of the court would ever see.

Unable to let him be tortured any longer, the elegant elf put aside her sewing and made her way to the action. "Come on now children, you've bruised your father enough for one day."

After some more enticing, the worn foursome lay spread across the chair. Arwen eased the reluctant children from on top of their father and succeeded in her rescue. "Come and tidy the nursery before you get dressed for dinner. It shan't be long."

"You are lucky Naneth saved you, Ada!" Eldarion panted. The mischievous glint in his eyes boasted his pride in his victory. In most cases, the King would be more than a match for all three, somehow able to restrain them all at the same time with an iron grip.

Aragorn openly agreed, "Yes son, I am. I'm sure you know of the women's stubborn ways by now, and it was wise of you to cease when she asked….Never fight against a lady – instead, let her believe she has won!" he teased in a whisper, lifting himself to the large fireplace and walking a safe distance from his wife.

Aragorn squatted at the opening and threw some sticks onto the nearly faded embers whilst Arwen and the children hastily cleared the mass of toys into neat boxes. Once they had finished, he overheard his wife desperately trying to send the trio to go to their chambers and prepare for dinner. They made any excuse in which they could think of which might allow them to delay in the nursery. Though dinner was not due for another two hours, it took them such a length to get ready. In return for her previous aid, however slow it may have been, it was now the King's turn to help his wife.

"I request someone would run to the kitchens and find for me what we will be eating for dinner – does any of you think you could fulfil my important task?" he said, finally getting the flames to blaze. As he looked slightly over his right shoulder, he saw the children run to his side

"I will, I can!" each of them cried eagerly.

It worked perfectly. "Since it is quite a big kitchen, perhaps you can all go….if it is not too much trouble?"

No sooner had he completed the sentence, Elraen had grabbed her little sister's hand dashed for the door. Eldarion, not to be outdone by the girls, was just behind them.

As the echo of hasty galloping and high-strung frivolity eventually faded through the large corridors, a serene silence enraptured the room.

Finally, pleased with his fire, Aragorn brushed his hands, straightened and turned to a now significantly transformed nursery. To his surprise, the place was neatly cleaned in a matter of minutes. As he took in the tidy scenery, he couldn't help but look upon the refined figure that stood quietly over near the narrow window. He kept his gaze on her as he moved forward to sit in the large cushioned chair.

She too kept her eyes locked on him whilst she watched him fall back into the seat. He looked suddenly worn as he sprawled limply across the comfortable furniture and placed his heavy head into his hand. He gave a half-hearted smile before outstretching a lazy hand in her direction. It was a call that needed no words.

Arwen crept to him to meet his invitation and she eased herself into sitting across his lap before melting into his secure arms. She placed a mild hand below his shoulder as he sighed in reaction. His breathing was laboured due to the biting cold of outside and he was cold and weathered, drenched from the rain.

Her eyes stayed with his, and continued to do so in the radiating heat of the fire before them. They had long gone beyond the point of needing conversation to communicate. Looking deep into his crystal stare, she saw his weary state. She saw the noble King of Gondor, the brave warrior, the lonely ranger, the mortal man, the wonderful husband and doting father. She saw Aragorn. Arwen's full rouged lips turned into a subdued smile as she moved her delicate hand to place a stray strand of wet hair back into place.

He loved her unearthly touch. Looking into her large, olive eyes, he saw the unlimited warm love and support she always provided. He saw the fair Queen of Gondor, the beautiful Evenstar Princess, the pristine Elf, the dedicated wife and loving mother. He saw Arwen. In every situation, the hope she possessed never failed to pass onto him. She was an eternal light, to him and all of Middle Earth.

"They never listen to me," she finally spoke.

Relaxed in the lulled room, the King had not the energy to realise the obvious. He looked to her in confusion, "Whom do you say?"

"The children," she half-smiled, "I had pleaded with them countless times before you had to speak only the once for them to do as they were told." The obedience and conduct of the prince and princesses with the presence of their father never ceased to amaze her. He hardly had to utter a word before they'd do as he wished.

"Ah," he waved his hand, "let it not worry you. After all, you are not the one who wields a sword all day." Aragorn light-heartedly consoled, suddenly wincing and shifting uncomfortably beneath his wife. He lifted slightly and adjusted himself as he pulled out a small toy soldier from under him.

"Perhaps we should change that," the elf giggled as she saw one of the familiar metal figures. "Your son has a liking to taking advantage of all the space that is available to him – and the space that is unavailable….he caused some upset earlier with his sisters."

"What trouble has he made this time?"

"Oh, it was all solved. A doll lost an arm, but that is the only injury. Tell of your day then, my Love." Arwen rested her head against her husband's cheek and relaxed into his sturdy supporting arm. She was also rather tired after watching three toddlers for the day. As she lay bewitched in his embrace and listening to the crackling blaze before her, there was nowhere else she'd possibly rather be.

"We had planned a meeting with the city's defence units, but it was too wet to have them travel up to the palace. Instead, I suggested some of us might go out into the stables and tend to the horses. The hay roof could not sustain the heavy rain and it severely leaked, so we did what we could to repair it."

Arwen only smiled to herself at his reply. The King was very passionate about nature and animals, and he especially loved his horses. They, in turn, appeared to love him as a rare rapport developed between them and their master. "I'm sure your son would have liked to have joined you. He's as bad as you for his care of horses….You know, he loves his toy versions," the Queen coyly remarked as if out of the blue.

"Yes, he has quite a lot."

"Yes, a lot. He has so many that he could…..perhaps……enact big significant battles."

Not knowing where his beloved was going with her dangerous smirk and conversation, Aragorn warily agreed, "Yes…that would sound somewhat normal to me, my Love."

"Well, Eldarion was having such a game today….." She stopped for silence, taking her time in her torture. Aragorn was looking usually nervous and she cruelly decided to take full advantage of the situation. "He had a big army of 'super' orcs fighting against a smaller army of the 'wonderfullest' King of Gondor."

Her husband smile proudly, "I should like to have joined in the game with him….It sounds entertaining."

"The men were defending a large stone fortress under siege."

His grin suddenly fell thin. He was caught!

"Would you happen to know where he heard about the battle Helm's Deep?" she quipped, her eyes dancing with a victorious mischief.

It took some time before her husband could answer. He did not need to speak, as his guilty demeanour did so for him. But, of course, Aragorn, son of Arathorn and King of Gondor, _never _gave up even the smallest thing without trying. "I…he…..it..he.. it must have been Gimli! Yes – he and Legolas constantly recall the battles gone by, telling them to Eldarion," he remarked, his words gradually speading with confidence, "I have asked them to wane their unnecessary storytelling, but you know dwarfs and el…those two. I shall speak to them of the matter."

"Be sure that you do," Arwen said, raising her brows in the entertainment of his fable. "And don't forget - you still have to bring Eldarion on a ride-around. He's getting more and more restless with the simple toys. Perhaps if you bring him soon, some dolls may be saved of poor 'Bell-Bell's' fate. "

"As promised, I will - I expected it was far too wet to bring him outside today," Aragorn answered matter-of-factly, staring at the blistering fire.

"But not for you, of course," Arwen mocked, lifting her head, "I had guessed you ventured outside - you're absolutely soaking!"

"So Sadriel has told me," he smiled, extending his right arm to survey his damp, wrinkled sleeve. The material was not strong and it became flimsy in its contact with water.

Arwen squeezed his collar in estimating just how saturated his garments were, "You cannot stay in these much longer," she said, using her authoritive voice as she lowered her hand to discover his trousers were as bad, if not worse, "You'd better change, you'll become ill before long if you remain in those for much longer…."

Aragorn made no indication of getting up from the cushioned seat. He just moved his limp head to her and gave his mischievous smirk, "Hiril nin (my Lady), since when did you need an excuse to undress me?"

She could not help but gaze upon his rugged face as she giggled. The orange glow of the flames highlighted the small glittering droplets which fell from his gorgeous dark locks, down upon his bristled cheek. Some ran past his chin and onto his partly displayed firm chest, and it was a sight in which enchanted her. "Just as I have requested the children must change their clothes for dinner, it seems I must apply this to you also."

"You know," he replied in a hushed tone as he pulled his blushing wife closer, placing his free hand across her silken-covered legs, "I was in the middle of changing before I decided to visit the nursery – I came as I figured you do a better job of undressing me than I myself do…."

She raised a single slender finger to trace a falling bead of water that trailed down his strong jaw, and followed it delicately along his rough neck before it came still upon his collarbone. Arwen then flattened her soft hand and rubbed slightly further south, moving inside his quarter-open top and continued along his defined muscular chest. "It comes from years of practise, my Lord," she teased before leaning forward to meet his cold, moistened lips for a second. "You should really go change…..If you become sick, I shan't attend to your whining as I did last Spring. You are not a good patient!"

"I will not fall ill – I've lived through much worse than some rain…," The King impatiently countered, before he leant close to her again, adding in a devilish whisper, "And, I hope to be rid of my attire soon." Unable for further restraint, his lips covered hers, and Arwen was denied a spoken reply.

Their mouths moulded together in slow, seamless movement, and he sat forward to deepen the kiss. He turned his head in a bid for dominance and as he came forward in the chair, he eased his wife into the seat. Keeping a secure arm around her, he did not dare break the embrace. Their sensual engagement harmonised as she returned his deepening passion with a firm hand grip and massage his solid shoulder.

God, he loved her touch. The heat emitted from their connection surpassed easily that of a roasting fire. It was so rare for him to have her all to himself, as either he was too busy, constantly under watch of the palace security or they were surrounded by three significant children. This much welcomed opportunity to claim his wife as his own was a treat he most definitely wanted to indulge in.

Her porcelain skin tingled with his tender strokes along her back and her heart beat rapidly against his hungry, yet tame, broken kisses. He moved her ebony waves carefully behind her shoulder and trailed his warm mouth from her full lips down along her bare neck. Her eyes remained shut in deepening pleasure as she limbered under him in order to fully appreciate every touch. Too often was she denied his desirable, intimate affections.

Alas, as the first button of her elaborate dress was opened, it was to be the last. All sensation and movement stopped as Aragorn suddenly sat himself rigid and upright above her. Arwen became bemused with his quick cease. Her original sense of rejection, however, was replaced with more addled thoughts as she watched her husband crouch his shoulders and tense his whole body.

His face became winced and his breathing turned from short breaths into heavy heeves. His nose then began to twitch and of it's own accord, his head arched back before darting forward in a rapid shot, "AAATCCHOOOOOOOO!"

He blinked and sniffed as his face stretched to find it's more regular shape. No sound was made at first, incase he was to sneeze again, but when the preceding seconds safely passed, his frame relaxed. His head had already begun to feel a burdening weight.

Arwen's disappointment turned into sympathy upon meeting his apologetic eyes and she pulled herself out from beneath him and up from the comfort of the chair. She fixed her gown and kept an examining gaze upon her ill husband. Despite expelling the role of nurse earlier, she could not help herself. "I shall firstly go get you some new clothes, and then fetch you a blanket."

"I'm fine…." He began before a delicate hand pressed his burning forehead in interruption.

"Then I'll make my way to the kitchens and request a hot soup for dinner," she said. Though she made it sound like a logical idea, Arwen's suggestions were always an order.

He sniffed again and nodded in defeat. The King watched her turn and make her way across the glowing room to the large wooden door. She attempted to pull the chunky circular clasp, but instead, she paused for a moment before turning her head back to see him.

"Y'know, I hate being always right!" she sighed.


End file.
